There is a place we fall into—sometimes by design, sometimes by Grace—where we get out of our body’s way and let it do what it was made to do. The mind sheds debris and floats. We sink beneath our stories to something truer, something simpler. Tangles loosen. A path opens. Answers come.

We don’t need to search for this place. It is in us, with us, waiting for our breath and attention. We stop. We lift our gaze. We sit with ourselves and wait. It will come. It’s already here.

We become mesmerized by the details of our lives, by our hardships, by our opinions and beliefs. Our minds race to find evidence to shore up our convictions. We suffer and claim the suffering of others. But we can feel it, the offness of it. We are out of sync, forcing a rhythm that is not ours. We pile on more tasks, enlarge our circle of worry, to distract us from the discomfort. It doesn’t occur to us to stop. We slide over that notion, because to stop would be too painful. To stop would threaten all we believe about ourselves and the world. To stop might invite change.

But our bodies remember. In movement and in stillness we come closer to ourselves. We align with the beat of our hearts. The tight fist of our minds open. We find our rhythm.

Sandy, this is simply beautiful! I know I have said this before, but there are many times your posts speak directly to me… as if you knew precisely what I needed to hear. This is one of those mornings. Thank you for your wise, and thoughtful words.

No, no LittleSunDog: she was speaking directly to/for ME ! 😉 It did occur to me, that although I am in an exciting place of clarifying my thinking about something, my hackles raising just ever so slightly in response to another’s different understanding was indication of my “…mind racing …to find evidence to shore up my convictions”. So I let go, opened my fisted mind. I just love the way you write, SandySue.